interfaith

Issues surrounding inclusivity

On June 9, the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism (USCJ) hosted the webinar Embracing Diversity: Wisdom from an Interfaith, Interracial Jewish Family. The event addressed the issues involved in creating an inclusive setting within a congregation and keeping an open mind about Jewish intermarriage.

Keren McGinity, the USCJ’s interfaith specialist, led the inaugural event, which took place on Zoom. Interfaith is one of four areas of diversity synagogues should hope to include, she said; the others being LBGTQ+, people of colour, and people of all neurological and physical abilities; occasionally, there is overlap.

It was mentioned that the webinar took place close to Loving Day (June 12), which marks the anniversary of the 1958 marriage – and subsequent arrest – of Mildred Jeter and Richard Loving, an interracial couple in Virginia. In 1967, the United States Supreme Court legalized interracial marriage in its Loving v. Virginia decision.

Guest speakers for the afternoon were Shira and Derrick, an interfaith and interracial couple. Shira grew up in the northeast United States and was raised in the Conservative movement; Derrick was born to Ghanaian parents and raised in an evangelical Christian environment in the Midwest. The pair met at university and began dating in their senior year. Because of their different upbringings, neither believed at the outset that the relationship would last. To their surprise, however, it did. They fell in love, ultimately got married and are now raising a baby daughter.

“There was a lot of internal struggle for both of us,” Shira admitted, explaining that they both wondered whether they were going to go through with it. Also, from Shira’s friends and family, there was concern, not that Derrick is black but that he is Christian.

“When I came to the realization that I would be marrying the love of my life, and not a Christian, it led to a lot of changes in thinking about what relationships meant,” Derrick told the Zoom audience.

“Whenever two people come together, there are always gaps that need to be bridged. What really matters is what are the things that are important to you and what are you willing to talk about,” he said, when asked about the cultural, religious and geographic differences the couple had when entering the relationship.

Intellectually, Shira understood that getting a rabbi to officiate would be challenging, yet, emotionally and spiritually, she could not come to terms with that fact because she knew in her heart that her relationship with Derrick was “the right thing.”

After sharing aspects of their personal journey as a couple, Shira and Derrick were asked by McGinity what the Jewish community could do to be more inclusive. Derrick described the reactions he generally receives when entering a synagogue with Shira. First, people look shocked, then, when they realize they are not supposed to make that face, they come over and make some awkward small talk.

Though Derrick understands the need to maintain certain traditions to make a religious setting what it is, the problem for him “is constantly feeling like the other, despite having a desire to being a part of that space, and not being treated like others who are entering the space.”

For her part, Shira said she thinks people are overcompensating because they are uncomfortable. “We have an idea of what Jewish looks like and assume that Jews look a certain way, even though there are examples in front of us.” One of those examples is their daughter.

“I don’t expect everyone to be completely comfortable with me walking into a room, because I look a little bit different than the majority of those in the Conservative shuls I have attended. What I do recognize is that there is going to be progress,” Derrick said, referencing the Loving case. He pointed out that the Supreme Court verdict was only 54 years ago and that his own marriage would have been illegal in a different era.

“To expect that not everyone in a Conservative shul is going to be comfortable is reasonable,” he stressed. “What I do expect is an openness and recognition that change is coming, and the recognition that there are going to be some awkward conversations. I expect that. What I don’t want is to be the warrior to help explain that to everyone.”

“If someone is in a Jewish space, they’re there to do Jewish things,” Shira said. “And that’s what matters.”

Richmond’s Congregation Beth Tikvah is one of the participating synagogues in the USCJ’s Embracing Diversity program.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Love note across the divide

Eighteen years ago, when I lived in southern Israel, the region that is getting hammered by rockets as I write this, my boyfriend at the time – Muhammed – was a Bedouin Muslim, also living in the area. I went to visit my mother in Berkeley, Calif., for a month or so. During my visit, I was hanging out with a friend of mine, who had grown up a secular Jew, then married a religious Moroccan Muslim. She had been inspired by her husband’s religious devotion to explore her own religious tradition, starting to keep kosher, go to Orthodox synagogue, and so on.

She and I were driving through downtown Berkeley, when we got stopped at a red light. As it so happened, to the right of us was an anti-Israel demonstration and to the left of us was a pro-Israel demonstration. The crowds were shouting slogans, slogans that flew across the street, over our heads in the car, the two of us, Jewish women in relationships with Arab Muslim men. We turned to each other, held our gaze for a minute, then burst out laughing hysterically. When the light turned green, we took off, leaving the Arabs and Jews behind us, yelling at one another.

When we feel threatened, we can get into a defensive posture, Us-Them thinking, unproductive fact-flinging, conversations from the brain instead of from the heart. We can go around and around the same circle of thought and narrative, as, meanwhile, people’s lives are torn apart by trauma and tragedy. I believe that the path to peace is not through political conversations, but, rather, through emotionally intimate relationships with individuals – getting to know and care about them, listen to their stories, understand the complexities and nuances of their lives. So that there is no Us and Them, but rather, there is just Us, the human family.

Prior to my relationship with Muhammed, I was a very political person. I did not just attend rallies; I organized them. As an indigenous Middle Eastern Jew, the daughter of a refugee from Iraq, I certainly had a lot to yell about: I am a direct descendant of the people of ancient Israel, which was destroyed 2,600 years ago by the Babylonians, who took my ancestors as captives to Babylon – the land of today’s Iraq. My ancestors stayed on that land through the Arab-Muslim conquest of the region 1,300 years ago and up through the modern day, until shortly after the Farhud – the pro-Nazi wave of genocidal violence against Jews in Baghdad – following which, my family fled to Israel.

Despite the brutal violence, exile and traumatic uprooting my family endured, along with the material loss – all Jewish personal and communal property was confiscated and nationalized by the Iraqi government – and, despite the personal, intergenerational trauma that carried forward through the years, in Israel and the United States, my family story was invisible in public discourse about Arabs and Jews, in both the Arab and Jewish narratives. This was the case despite the fact that indigenous Middle Eastern Jews made up the majority of Israel’s Jewish population, and that there were 900,000 indigenous Middle Eastern Jewish refugees worldwide in the 20th century, with stories mirroring those of my family.

I spent 20 years of my young adult life devoted to getting these stories out there, with a mission of changing the way people think. I spoke at respected institutes, published in prestigious media, my work reaching the eyes and ears of tens of millions of people. Then, my thinking changed – not about the history or politics, which remained the same – but about what to do with the history and politics, how to interface with them.

Because Muhammed and I were together amid a volatile environment of Arab-Jewish enmity, we kept things apolitical in our relationship. Paradoxically, this led to what was perhaps the most political act of all: Arab-Jewish love, visible for others to witness. My neighbours went from cautioning me against dating Muhammed to asking if I was still with Muhammed, to asking how Muhammed was doing. They feared him at first, but then got to know him and care about him. Experiencing that transformation, in turn, made me realize that the simple things in life, the connection we feel in someone’s presence, can be more powerful and important than all the high-brow intellectual discourse in the world, the litany of things we may have to say, no matter how valid those things may be.

image - The author’s forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East — The author’s forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East.

In addition, after getting diagnosed with cancer and choosing to heal from it naturally, I radically shifted my values and priorities – with joy, peace and ease shooting up to the top of my list. As part of my transformation, I returned to my lost love of music and started writing songs that were deeply personal, from the heart, and, as far as I knew, entirely apolitical – leaving me surprised when, after a performance, a man told me not only that he loved my music but that it was very political. My music disarms people, he and others have told me, specifically because I have no agenda, no interest in persuading anyone of anything; rather, I am just sharing – my story, my life, my journey. The simplicity and space of it all allows people to open their hearts, listen and, ironically, after all those years trying to change people’s minds – transform the way people think.

I don’t know the solution to this conflict that has been raging on for decades, endangering the lives of my family and friends, Jews and Muslims alike. I do, however, know this: as individuals, we have the choice not to participate in divisive thinking, to instead use conflict as an opportunity to reach out to people across the divide and get to know one another, in the most basic human ways, whether playing basketball or playing music or going for a walk and enjoying the sunset. In our cynical world, putting love at the forefront of our consciousness may sound hokey or impractical. But, at the end of the day, I think it’s the only thing with the hope to effect change.

Loolwa Khazzoom (KHAZZOOM.com) is an Iraqi-American Jewish musician, writer and educator. Her work has been featured in top media, including the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Boston Globe. Her forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, with her band by the same name, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East.

Dialogue across differences

Rabbi Dr. Ted Falcon will be joined by Imam Jamal Rahman in a keynote address called Healing at a Time of Polarization, which the public can watch online by registering at vst.edu. (photo from Ted Falcon)

When beginning interfaith or intercultural dialogue, how much emphasis should be placed on similarities and how much on differences? According to a rabbi with decades of experience in the topic, the question puts the cart before the horse.

When Rabbi Dr. Ted Falcon, a Seattle spiritual guide, author, teacher and therapist, leads such interactive processes, he starts with something far more general: the basic humanity of the participants.

“We encourage people to begin a dialogue, a conversation process, not by focusing on similarities or differences in their religious views or nonreligious views, whatever they might be, but begin by creating contexts in which they can meet each other as human beings, meet each other as persons, which essentially is done through sharing stories,” said Falcon.

He uses “a series of questions that people can respond to either in dyads or around tables that elicit stories about important events in their lives, stories about concerns in their lives, stories about important relationships in their lives, so that the dialogue begins by appreciating a common shared human condition. That has made a tremendous difference because only after that do we encourage people looking at more specifically their religious or nonreligious concerns.”

Falcon will be part of a keynote address at a fifth annual multi-religious, multidisciplinary conference presented by Vancouver School of Theology, May 24 to 26. Due to the pandemic, the conference, titled Religious, Spiritual, Secular: Living in a Pluralistic Culture, will take place online. To virtually attend the entire event, registration fees apply, but the keynote and a Monday night concert are open to the public at no cost, although pre-registration is required.

Falcon is a member of the Interfaith Amigos, made up of himself, Pastor Don Mackenzie, a Christian minister, and Imam Jamal Rahman, a Muslim clergyman of the Sufi tradition. The three have published books and present together frequently. Rahman will join Falcon at the conference for the keynote, titled Healing at a Time of Polarization: Reaching Beyond Difference to What We Share.

Once the framework for constructive dialogue is in place, Falcon said in a telephone interview with the Jewish Independent from his Seattle-area home, interfaith exploration can begin to approach similarities that transcend religious differences. Among their Jewish, Muslim and Christian values, the amigos acknowledge some fundamental principles.

“We identified three basic core teachings that our traditions share,” said Falcon. “A core teaching of oneness, a core teaching of unconditional love and a core teaching of compassion. We can utilize those core teachings to then look at our texts, our traditions and our lives and evaluate how does this reflect in my life, how am I not living up to this, what do I need to do to live up to this more authentically? And it’s only after that discussion that we encourage people to engage in more difficult conversations, whether it’s conversations about Israel-Palestine, whether it’s conversations about desire to convert other people, whether it’s conversations about feeling your way is somehow better than other ways, whether it’s conversations about somehow being wary of allowing ourselves to truly appreciate the spiritual wisdom in another’s tradition.”

He admitted that interfaith dialogue is not always possible. But, even among people who acknowledge that they believe their theology to be unerring and people who may not be open to difference, there can still be dialogue, he said.

“In other words, if our conversation is based on my need to get you to change, there is no conversation.” But, he continued, if people recognize that neither they nor their interlocutor will change their minds, there is still a means and a purpose to engaging.

“We share the essential aspect of walking around in a human body with all its frailties and all its challenges and all its wonders,” said Falcon. “We have so much in common that that changes the energetic environment and allows a different kind of conversation to take place. Will you ever convince me that Jesus is the only way? No. But can I truly appreciate that that is your way and authentically support that? Yes, I can do that.”

Rabbi Dr. Laura Duhan-Kaplan, director of interreligious studies and a professor of Jewish studies at Vancouver School of Theology, is conference director. She acknowledged that the online, virtual format for the conference changes its nature, but with the drawbacks come benefits.

“We are well aware that people can experience Zoom fatigue and computer fatigue and perhaps don’t want to sit in front of the computer for two full days, no matter how much they are fascinated by the content,” Duhan-Kaplan said. As a result, all of the sessions will be recorded and participants can watch and join the conversation on message boards for 10 days after the conference weekend. This means that, unlike most in-person conferences where participants have to choose between breakout sessions, it is possible to virtually attend all of them.

While the event is an academic conference and it will naturally attract clergypeople, Duhan-Kaplan said it is appropriate for anyone who cares about the role of religion in the public sphere.

“One of the objectives, when it was an in-person conference, was, of course, to get people interested in religion and spirituality from different sectors of our community, to meet each other in person and network,” she said. “The dynamic may be very different online, so, aside from that goal, I’m really hoping that people will come away with a sense of the complexity of creating a community that has room for religious diversity.

“But I also want them to be able to see what some of the components of that complexity are, so that no one throws up their hands and says it can’t be done, but has a sense that by doing acts, whether it’s a group of multifaith chaplains supporting a prison population or whether it’s a group of people getting together to work on the Downtown Eastside or even religious communities twice a year doing outreach to someone of a different faith, I want people to get a sense of understanding that they are part of a larger project and what kind of difference what they do makes.”

For information, to register for the entire conference ($100/$50 students) or sign up to attend the keynote and concert (free), go to vst.edu by May 21.

Uniting in significant times

For some, this pandemic has been lonely. For families with children, like mine, it’s a lot of togetherness and work. The offer to listen to deep thinkers from three religious traditions by myself for an hour was a rare chance. I’m busy – homeschooling, working, cooking and constantly being “in community” with my twin 8-year-olds. We’re missing our relatives, school and social gatherings, but I’m working constantly. During this pandemic, I’m almost never physically alone.

For an introvert like me, this has been hard. So, I jumped at the chance to cover a webinar with religious insights on the pandemic.

While we’re physically isolated, we’re also more connected by technology than ever before. This is how moderator Dr. Reinhard Krauss began a Zoom webinar, hosted by the American Jewish University, called “Muslims, Jews and Christians: Coming Together in Extraordinary Times.”

The three panelists were all distinguished educators who do interfaith dialogue. Each also offered their personal take on their religious traditions. Rabbi Dr. Elliot Dorff shared Jewish insights, Sister Deborah Lorentz, a member of Sisters of Social Justice, offered a Catholic perspective and Jihad Turk, the president and founder of Bayan Claremont Islamic Graduate School, spoke about Islam.

Much of the webinar highlighted our faith communities’ shared values, including strong support of science and medicine as a way forward. All three panelists, speaking from their faith traditions, pointed out the risky behaviour of extremists who have chosen to ignore medical advice around social distancing. Whether it’s ultra-Orthodox Charedim gathering illegally in Brooklyn or churches choosing to meet on Easter, the consensus was that these choices to disregard social distancing science were crazy. They were, according to Dorff, against Jewish law in terms of saving a life. Jewish teachings regarding social distancing, illness and separation go all the way back to Leviticus.

The need to stay put and social distance is in Islamic teachings, too. Turk quoted a 1,400-year-old hadith (saying of the prophet Mohammed) that said: “Usama b. Zaid said the Prophet said: ‘If you hear of a plague in a land do not enter it; and if it breaks out in the land where you stay, do not leave.’”

All three faith communities talked about the history of community and our traditional strengths in gathering together. Sister Deborah mentioned St. Benedict’s teachings about living in community together. This, she said, is a longstanding support system that we all need.

However, when we can’t gather, we must find other solutions. Catholics must look inward and find “the Jesus Christ within” to gain strength, she said.

Dorff talked about how, when we as Jews are isolated, we miss the most routine things, like going to a movie theatre or grocery store – and then we must innovate. He used a personal anecdote to explain a Jewish historic pattern, mentioning how, for the first time, he and his wife were using technology to chat virtually with all four of their adult children and their families at once. They’d replaced their usual Sunday afternoon movie outing with a virtual family gathering. This had never occurred to them before the pandemic. In isolation, they missed their routine and, therefore, innovated.

The most painful loss for many of us was not being able to gather physically for big holidays – Passover, Easter and, now, Ramadan. Ramadan is an intensely communal holiday, in which families join every evening for iftar to break their fast. Many Muslims also gather at mosques to break their daily fast, and to pray together. Yet, none of that can happen this year. Yes, there are virtual events, but it’s not the same as being together.

So, people must change their routines and pray at home. Turk spoke of “challenging people to work at home. Develop and refine the art of supplication, reaching out from your heart to G-d to what you are most in need of. Strengthen that muscle.”

All three panelists said almost in unison that things should not “return to normal” when it comes to our great societal inequities. Feeding, clothing and housing those in need were recurrent themes. Sister Deborah spoke about how, despite all the struggles that this experience might cause, it also might offer us great gifts. It’s up to us to do the work and find the gifts we’re being taught.

These reflections provided me with food for thought. I was struck by the notion that during this Ramadan, Muslims must work hard to pray at home and “strengthen that muscle when it comes to opening yourself up to G-d.” Often, when I pray in Jewish communities, we’re reciting the prayers but not doing that introspective work.

Sister Deborah’s notion that we must find the gifts in a challenging time was also a perspective that I struggled to find on my own. She encouraged everyone to use this to make change in the future – to envision the way we can take responsibility to right wrongs and inequities we all see in society.

The webinar ended with encouragements to show our love to our families, our friends and the world. We must return to society with, in Dorff’s words, “a greater appreciation for people who do service for us. Farmers, truckers, medical professionals, teachers – we need each other.”

The hour I spent alone listening to this panel discussion was precious. It’s rare indeed for parents to be alone at all during this pandemic! As a bonus, I also heard ideas common to all three faiths: science, work, social responsibility, community connection, and the need to love one another. All these are rooted in Jewish tradition. It’s well worth considering these common and important ideas as we face our lives in a new, post-pandemic landscape.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Sisterhood building bridges

Members of Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom enjoy a Ramadan Iftar dinner together at a local mosque. Naz Qureshi is at top right and Rabbi Gila Caine is seated in the front row, second from the right. This photo was taken before the COVID-19 crisis. (photo from Naz Qureshi)

Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom, which works with Jewish and Muslim women to combat hate, stereotyping and prejudice, has chapters in the United States, England and Canada. After a trip to Israel in 2017, Naz Qureshi, who is Muslim and whose parents are from Pakistan, decided to start up a Salaam Shalom chapter in her own city, Edmonton.

“I’ve been to Israel/Palestine twice,” Qureshi told the Independent in a recent interview. “It’s one of my favourite places to go. I love to see the political dynamics, because … I can weave in and out of both sides. I’m Muslim, so the Palestinians get me. But yet, I’m very Western, so the Israelis get me, too. I don’t wear a hijab. I’m not seen as a threat. I can see it from both sides. I think that, because I’m also a South Asian Westerner, of course, the conflict is near and dear to my heart and I’m passionate about it, but I’m not as invested in it as a Middle Easterner would be.”

During Qureshi’s 2017 visit to Israel, she said, “Completely by chance, this Orthodox rabbi and I started talking about religion and we ended up becoming extremely good spiritual friends. We realized that our faiths have so much in common.”

On her way back to Edmonton, via Toronto, Qureshi happened upon an ad for Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom and reached out when she got home. She contacted Temple Beth Ora’s Rabbi Gila Caine.

“Gila was completely interested,” said Qureshi. “I said, ‘OK, this is perfect, because you’re a rabbi and you can bring the Jewish women, and I can bring the Muslim women.’”

Each leader managed to find a half dozen interested women from their communities, and they began meeting on a monthly basis in homes and places of worship.

“Initially, you don’t broach the Israel-Palestine topic, because you’re just going to have a breakdown of communication right there,” said Qureshi. “Instead, we started with similarities. And it’s not just like, ‘OK, let’s eat some baklava and hummus.’ No. You delve into really interesting topics, like our holidays, our festivals. Salaam Shalom provides you with a whole binder if you’re not able to work on your own topics. They’re really good at guiding you.”

By eliminating stereotypes and hate, and developing friendships, participants begin seeing the other’s points of view and standing up for one another.

To help create intimate friendships, chapters are kept small. “You can’t hate somebody who you end up liking,” said Qureshi. “And then you think, ‘Wow, this person is a lot like me.’

“I think that when that happens – I’ve seen it over and over again from both sides – it creates really interesting dynamics. When you see that wall fall, it’s like the Berlin Wall cracking and this realization that, ‘Oh, my God … this person is not evil, they’re really interesting and fun to be around.’”

At one of the meetings, members were asked to share a personally meaningful story from their faith tradition. “I remember one, I think it was my favourite,” said Qureshi. “We were at Gila’s house and Gila shared about the Kiddush cup. I’d brought zamzam water (Muslim blessed water) and explained its significance. We ended up toasting zamzam water in the Kiddush cup and it was amazing…. When we left, we all had that warm fuzzy feeling in our hearts.”

Just before the coronavirus outbreak, the group had planned to have an event to assess participants’ interest in continuing, but the gathering had to be postponed.

“What I really like about Salaam Shalom is the intimate, smaller group discussions,” said Qureshi. “You get past the formalities, past your name and what do you do, and you delve into real issues and gain an appreciation and learning from one another.

“There is so much Islamophobia and antisemitism on both sides and I really wish that people would just go out and make a Muslim or Jewish friend, and then you can see this closeness that exists.

“I think it’s maybe also so important for women especially to be doing this work because it’s easier for us … no matter where you fall on the spectrum, liberal, conservative … we tend to be more open.

“We can portray Muslims not in this negative stereotypical light, too,” she added. “We’re not all terrorists, we’re not all crazy…. It’s really important to sow those seeds wherever you can.

“Going back to my Israeli friend, the Orthodox rabbi, he feels so close to Palestinians he knows now … whereas before, he was a completely different person. Now, I think, from knowing me and when we talk about religion and the shared stories and our deep love of God and respect, he feels this closeness to Palestinians.”

After Qureshi’s phone interview with the Jewish Independent, she shared a message she received from her rabbi friend, which read: “The other day, when I came home after one of my rounds, I tried to park the minibus in the usual spot and there was this guy who told me that he cannot clean the area because I park there, so I parked somewhere else. Later, I go over to him and ask what days he comes to clean, so I know when not to park. He was a Muslim and he said, ‘I like you.’ He said he recognized me from before. Apparently, he used to sweep the area some time ago and remembers that I used to compliment him and say a good word. Anyway, he literally kissed me! It took me by complete surprise! Who would think of [a Muslim] kissing a Jew? Anyway, we exchanged numbers and now there’s another Muslim friend added to my list.”

Qureshi reflected, “Hearing this message made my Monday morning. I got off the train feeling elated and walked the remaining blocks to work. The sun shone a little brighter and the cooling breeze appeared to be sent directly from the heavens above! The scene was playing over and over in my mind. ‘Who would kiss a Jew?’ Why, a Muslim could and would kiss a Jew! And what had elicited such a strong emotional response? That a Jew could and did act kindly to a Muslim.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

RCMP coins reflect diversity

Last year, Richmond RCMP Superintendent Will Ng came up with the idea of creating a challenge coin unique to each of seven communities in Richmond. (photo by Lauren Kramer)

In 2019, Superintendent Will Ng at the Richmond RCMP came up with the idea of creating a “challenge coin” unique to each of seven of Richmond’s larger communities: Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Chinese. A coin was designed for each with the guidance of the community’s spiritual leaders.

For the Jewish community, the coin was collaboratively designed by Sgt. Kevin Krieger and Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Rabbi Adam Rubin.

“I was genuinely moved and touched when the RCMP approached me to help design the coin,” Rubin told the Independent. “The fact that the RCMP was willing to produce a challenge coin for the Jewish community speaks volumes about its commitment to diversity and inclusion, as well as its commitment to the safety, well-being and flourishing of Jews in the Lower Mainland.”

photos - The Jewish challenge coin was designed by Sgt. Kevin Krieger and Rabbi Adam Rubin — The Jewish challenge coin was designed by Sgt. Kevin Krieger and Rabbi Adam Rubin. *(photos by Cynthia Ramsay)*

The Jewish coin features a quote from the Talmud (in English) and an image of the Star of David and a Torah scroll. Rubin and Krieger both felt that these are widely recognized symbols of Judaism and Jewish life.

“The Torah is at the very heart of our religious life, the core of who we are as a people, while the Star of David connects us to our past and to the state of Israel,” Rubin said. “The excerpt from the Talmud, ‘The entire Torah was given for the ways of peace,’ is a heartfelt expression of an essential teaching of our tradition – that peaceful relations between people is one of the goals of religious life. Given recent events in North America, Europe and elsewhere, that claim is more important than ever.”

Some 400 coins were produced in time for Rosh Hashanah last year and have been handed out by members of the police force at special community events, both in Richmond and beyond.

“The coin represents the fact that we stand in solidarity with our Jewish community against hate and antisemitism,” said Ng. “We will do our best to protect our Jewish community to ensure they feel safe to both live and practise their religion free from hate or prejudice.”

Rubin said he is deeply grateful to the RCMP for producing a coin with such an important message. “I hope and pray that, though this challenge coin may be fairly modest in the grand scheme of things, it plays a part both in ensuring the continued flourishing of Jews in Canada, and in helping to reinforce the crucial value of peace.”

Cpl. Adriana Peralta, who works in Richmond RCMP’s media relations, said the coins are commonly used in the RCMP as a token of appreciation for community service, or as a small gift to individuals who have served their community. “We have a large faith-based community in Richmond and our detachment came up with this particular series of coins as a way to connect with our interfaith partners and celebrate the rich diversity of our cultural groups,” she explained.

The RCMP has created a display of the seven coins at the Richmond detachment, where they are positioned below an image of the Richmond skyline.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

Youth feed homeless people

Youth from Temple Beth Ora and Gathering Angels in Edmonton help out at Boyle Street Community Services shelter. (photo from Rabbi Gila Caine)

In Edmonton, Rabbi Gila Caine and Muslim leader Nesrine Merhi-Tarrabain have combined forces to serve their local community.

Caine is spiritual leader of Temple Beth Ora, a Reform synagogue in Edmonton with nearly 100 families, which celebrated its 40th anniversary last year. Merhi-Tarrabain is director of Gathering Angels, which runs an educational centre that teaches Muslim girls Islamic values.

Caine grew up in Jerusalem and moved with her husband, Ariel, and their two young children to Edmonton more than two years ago to lead Temple Beth Ora. Their kids attend the local Talmud Torah school.

Growing up, Caine learned early on, and more so in her early teens, to always be looking for ways to strengthen and help community. She wanted to bring that same mindset – of taking responsibility for your local community – to b’nai mitzvah-age kids at her Edmonton congregation.

“We’ve wanted to go out of the classroom and do stuff outside for a few years now,” Caine told the Independent in a recent interview. “And then, through another connection I have, with Salaam Shalom group, I asked one of them if perhaps they have somebody in their community that does stuff with kids … and that maybe we could do stuff together.

“I thought that would be really cool if we could get the b’nai mitzvah kids to go out and do stuff in the community, but with other youth of a different faith group,” she said.

Caine was connected with Merhi-Tarrabain. After some effort and time, the synagogue and educational centre managed to get together on a Saturday in November, preparing and serving both breakfast and lunch at Boyle Street Community Services shelter.

“We brought food with us, had her girls, my kids, and some parent volunteers working in two shifts there that day – working together, preparing sandwiches, cooking,” said Caine. “It was actually funny to see – it was more the parents that were connecting and talking … [while] the kids were basically doing their work quietly. But, the parents got into really nice conversations with each other and they served the food. And everybody from both sides came away feeling that we should do this again.”

photo - The interfaith initiative at Boyle Street Community Services was led by Nesrine Merhi-Tarrabain, third from the left, and Rabbi Gila Caine, second from the right — The interfaith initiative at Boyle Street Community Services was led by Nesrine Merhi-Tarrabain, third from the left, and Rabbi Gila Caine, second from the right. *(photo from Rabbi Gila Caine)*

Caine is hoping to make serving the community a tradition at Temple Beth Ora, possibly with Gathering Angels again, as well as with other groups.

When thinking of the best activity to launch the b’nai mitzvah community service initiative, Caine chose this particular one – preparing and serving food – as she knew from experience that many of the kids really enjoy dealing with food service, having seen them help out at the shul.

“Some of these kids are b’nai mitzvah kids and they want to volunteer again,” said Caine. So, the youth group counselors “will sit with them and talk to them about what they want to do. This is the next step,” she said.

After the November project, there was another food-related volunteering opportunity for the kids last year. They joined the Edmonton Jewish community as a whole to prepare a Christmas meal for another shelter. “They really wanted to take part in that,” said Caine. “And now we will see what they will come up with next.”

According to Caine, having Merhi-Tarrabain at the Boyle Street Community Services kitchen was beneficial for several reasons, including that she had volunteered there with the girls in the past and had experience. That meant Merhi-Tarrabain could offer tips about what food to bring and how to best help in the food’s preparation and serving.

“Now, some of the parents who were there, they want to initiate more of these things,” said Caine. “And now, we have a better idea of how to do that.”

Both faith groups understand that more such gatherings are necessary before the youth can make lasting connections.

Caine said her synagogue is trying to create a project with another Muslim youth centre in Edmonton and also with one of the city’s churches. “We’re trying to create a program,” she said, “where they will have meetings, talk and learn and do stuff together … hopefully resulting in some real connection-making.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Interfaith youth unite in service

Interfaith Youth BC participants gather at Or Shalom Synagogue on Dec. 8. (photo from Pamela Evans)

Being stewards of the earth, performing acts of kindness: it’s not just Judaism that promotes these principles, and it’s for this reason that three faith groups in Metro Vancouver have brought youth together to explore shared values while participating in community service projects.

The Ismaili Centre of British Columbia, Or Shalom Synagogue and the United Church of Canada began working together in 2019 under the moniker Interfaith Youth BC to deliver programs for youth ages 11 and up. Participants learn about tenets of Islam, Judaism and Christianity while giving back to the community at large.

“You have kids, especially the ones in high school, they’re getting together and some of them have preconceived ideas of the [different faiths],” said Harriet Frost of Or Shalom Synagogue. “Sure, they get along in what they have in common in terms of their interests, ages and what they’re all going through as teenagers, but we’re addressing the elephant in the room. We’re addressing their faith traditions…. It’s an opening to see that they have a lot more in common than they might have realized before.”

Pamela Evans, a regional minister for youth and young adults for the United Church, said the guiding principle behind the collaboration is relationship building. “We make assumptions about others that aren’t based on reality,” she said. “If we’re able to build relationships, it’s less comfortable for us to do that and it affects the way we think about things. I love that sense that [the program] is an open place for curiosity and it’s grounded in this respect for one another.”

In May 2019, youth were given texts from the Torah, Qur’an and Bible that focused on stewardship and caring for the land, and had to determine which holy book each quote was from.

“The fascinating thing is no one could get it quite right because it was quite similar,” said Frost. “It’s a powerful exercise for anyone to see that.”

Later, the youth cleaned up English Bay beach in partnership with the Great Canadian Shoreline Cleanup.

photo - Some of the items Interfaith Youth BC participants assembled into care packages to distribute in Downtown Eastside on Dec. 8 — Some of the items Interfaith Youth BC participants assembled into care packages to distribute in Downtown Eastside on Dec. 8. *(photo from Pamela Evans)*

On Dec. 8, 45 young people gathered in the social hall at Or Shalom to once again dive into pieces of scripture, this time focused on acts of kindness. They assembled 150 care packages that included warm clothing, toiletries, sandwiches and snacks to distribute in the Downtown Eastside with support from the Lookout Housing and Health Society. The teens composed handwritten notes to include in each package. Several businesses donated items for the packages.

Through the nexus of study and action, “we are able to … provide a greater understanding of how faith and service are connected,” said Alina Daya, a secondary teacher at Ismaili Tariqah and Religious Education Board. “Through these events, youth are able to actually live out the guidance of their respective faiths and appreciate the similarities in values, guidance and practice within all of our traditions.”

Gabriel, one of the youth who attended the Dec. 8 event, was moved by the opportunity to make a difference. “I thought it was great how all the teens from different religious backgrounds could come together to help provide some small comforts to those less fortunate in Oppenheimer Park,” he said. “I was surprised at how similar our values were, especially of human kindness and compassion.”

Frost believes the exposure to different faiths and cultures can, in the long run, have the potential to break down political barriers. “It’s a bridge to sitting down and talking about it…. It’s a pathway towards peace and reconciliation in a broader sense,” she said. “If you develop a personal relationship, you realize the commonalities between everything.”

While the program is for youth, Evans sees it has ripple effects for adults as well. “I learn from my colleagues about things I didn’t know about and it feels like a blessing and a privilege to be a part of those conversations. I think sometimes adults are afraid to be in those conversations, or their privilege clouds their understanding. Youth don’t do that, so what would it look like if we shaped this generation of youth to think differently?”

The organizers plan to hold another event this year, a “festival of faiths,” at which they hope to invite other faith communities to participate.

Shelley Stein-Wotten is a freelance journalist and comedy writer. She has won awards for her creative non-fiction and screenwriting and enjoys writing about the arts and environmental issues. She is based on Vancouver Island.

A not so diasporic dialogue

Awhile back, friends invited me to a writers group. Although I told them that I wasn’t quite the right fit for the group, they convinced me to go.

The meeting was nearby. I enjoyed walking on a cold, dark and starry night. Yet, the meeting’s “gatekeeper” told me that I wasn’t eligible for their future gatherings, as I didn’t (yet) write or edit in their genre. Instead, she invited me to another writers event in October. (I’m not on the social media lists for these types of things, as I tend to focus on writing deadlines and my household – and I’m introverted.)

The event, titled Diaspora Dialogues, took place on a Friday and Saturday. Although it might been possible for me to attend some parts of it, I saw only one gathering that interested me. Called Vulnerability and the Public Space, it boasted a live podcast, but it was held on Saturday afternoon. As someone who writes on religious issues in the public sphere, it seemed relevant. However, I saw no way that I could pull off attending – Saturday is a family day for us. After we go to services, I’m often feeding everyone a big lunch and playing with kids afterwards. (In an ideal world, we’d even take a nap!) To go, I’d have to have given up my day off and commit to attending on Shabbat.

This “diaspora” event, which seemed designed for Canadians of colour, was scheduled at a time when Muslims might be busy (Friday afternoon) and on Shabbat, when Jewish families might be busy with family or synagogue or both. It wasn’t inclusive of religious diversity. It excluded any person who might be both religiously observant and a Canadian minority.

Even the event’s title puzzled me, as the first dictionary definition for diaspora usually references the historical dispersal of the Jewish people outside of Israel. The “scattering of a people outside their original country to other places” is a secondary definition. So, OK, this was a secondary use of the definition, fine.

I resolved my personal conflict. I emailed one of the organizers to point out the discrepancy. Although I write about vulnerable religious issues, often in the public space, I wouldn’t be able to attend this “diaspora” event, as its timing excluded Canadian religious minorities. No matter, though, perhaps I could access the podcast online later? Where, I asked her, could I locate the podcast link?

I received no reply. The podcast never appeared online.

We celebrate our religious freedom on Chanukah. It’s the chance to rededicate our spaces to Jewish practice. However, the holiday’s origins are a tale of struggle between minorities and the majority: Jewish assimilationists, religious fundamentalists and the Seleucid empire’s religious majority (aka the Greeks, or the Assyrians). We remind ourselves of this in each generation – we can’t take religious freedom or Jewish practice for granted.

There has been a huge rise in antisemitic activity. Identifiable Jews or Israelis are now often targeted, assaulted and harassed throughout the world.

A far more subtle and insidious change has also happened in terms of Jewish identity. Now, U.S. President Donald Trump has decided, via presidential order, to define Jewish students as an ethnic or racialized “national”group that, theoretically, can’t be discriminated against. Yet, the definition alone is a worrying precedent.

Take a look around you at any Chanukah event. We’re not one race by any (purely artificial and historic) definitions. We aren’t one homogenous ethnic group, even if we might have been thousands of years ago. Just ask those who argue about doughnuts versus latkes or other holiday foods. What or who defines us? We’re now facing new identity definitions – as delineated from the outside.

We are a diaspora religious minority group that evolves and changes. We haven’t disappeared despite changing definitions.

Chanukah’s a minor holiday on our calendar. It celebrates clinging to our freedoms in a dark world. It relies on a subtle understanding that not all discrimination is based on racism. It implies that religious, ethnic or racial background alone doesn’t solely define someone’s minority status.

A true acknowledgement and respect for religious freedom is one that practises intersectionality instead.

What is intersectionality? Our identities – racial, sexual, class, gender, religion, nationality, etc. – are complex and changing. We are each the result of several roads, always under construction, that meet in one huge intersection.

As Jewish North Americans, living in the Diaspora, we’re more than one ethnicity, gender or race. Together, we celebrate our tradition and identity as a triumph over adversity. We just may have to celebrate with an understanding that we’re no longer included in some folks’ definition of diaspora and, hence, excluded from the narrative. Heck, I cannot even access the podcast about the narrative!

Wishing you a very happy, inclusive Chanukah from my family to yours. Have a great winter break, one where you feel included! May it be full of light, joy and peace.

Similar needs across cultures

On Oct. 30, members of different cultural groups gathered to discuss issues facing seniors. (photo from JSA)

Aging Across Cultures Dialogue Tables included an Oct. 30 gathering hosted by Jewish Seniors Alliance of Greater Vancouver at the Unitarian Centre.

The B.C. Ministry of Tourism, Arts and Culture has provided funding for a focused review of services, concerns and challenges faced by organizations providing help to multicultural seniors in the Lower Mainland. In addition to the JSA, Jewish Family Services and the Kehila Society were among the groups represented, which also included ASK Friendly Society, B.C. Community Resources Network, Kitsilano Neighbourhood House, United Way-Better At Home, Collingwood Neighbourhood House, COSCO, 411 Seniors Centre Society, Gordon Neighbourhood House, Marpole Neighbourhood House, Simon Fraser University Gerontology Research Centre, Vancouver Seniors Advocate, Seniors Brigade Society of British Columbia, Seniors First B.C., South Granville Seniors Centre, Tonari Gumi, Vancouver Native Health Society, and West End Seniors Network.

On Oct. 30, Gyda Chud, co-president of JSA, welcomed participants, emphasizing advocacy, reflection and rejuvenation as illustrated in a new JSA video outlining its community services. Grace Hann and Charles Leibovitch, from JSA’s peer support services, were the facilitators for the multicultural dialogue tables. Liz Azeroual of JSA documented on flip charts the ideas and concepts put forth by the participants.

Whatever the needs of seniors in general, discussants agreed that the situation is worse for immigrants and for women; many must choose between either eating or taking their medications. Immigrant women are less likely to be accepted for financial aid. Literacy is an issue, especially when applications for help are online, and navigating the system is more difficult when English is not your first language.

Without family advocacy, many seniors are left to fend for themselves. They need places to meet other seniors who have similar language, customs and experiences. In care facilities, many immigrant seniors are forced to eat unfamiliar foods. Immigrant seniors, especially women, need advocates to get their needs met, but community-based organizations working with seniors often are not well-funded, so help is minimal. The medical system is not structured to treat the multiple problems of seniors.

Loneliness and isolation are among those issues. Family groupings are now much smaller, and young families do not live in the same area as their parents or grandparents. Some seniors are abandoned by their families, or by the death of friends and colleagues. There is a lack of social support, transportation and financial aid to address these problems. Health issues such as depression, fractures that limit mobility, and degenerative hearing and sight increase isolation. LGBTQ+ seniors may also be underserved and isolated. There is a need for better communication all round.

Low-income seniors often move into single-room facilities, if they are available, or some become homeless, living in cars or couch surfing, as they cannot afford higher rents.

Paid caregiver turnover and the deteriorating quality of some care facilities has led families to care for their loved ones at home without adequate financial support. Caregiver burnout is a major concern and accessing certain types of care is a huge challenge: palliative care, for example, requires a physician’s referral.

Population movement and growth, and changes in the healthcare industry, are taking place without adequate planning for the changing needs of the senior population. For all workers, including professionals, who come from a non-English-speaking country, language training is necessary and difficult. Families need paid work in stable jobs and so do seniors. Volunteers are hard to recruit and retain, even though it is meaningful work and can lead to other jobs. In addition to language, many new Canadians need to learn more about technology and Canada’s corporate and general culture. In many areas, discrimination is an issue faced by new Canadians.

All Canadians need to plan for retirement, which is becoming costlier, as the population ages and services become more expensive. Various healthcare agencies need adequate funding to keep the elderly out of hospitals, and the links between different levels of health care and social services (clinics, hospitals and nonprofit agencies) need to be strengthened in order to keep this population from falling through the cracks. Access to transportation is a big part of this, and caregivers should be remunerated for providing home care for seniors. Cultural and ethnic care facilities could play a larger role in reducing isolation, offering spaces where language, food and culture are familiar and where families of seniors can meet.

Seniors housing was considered the highest priority. The need for more single-room affordable housing units, more cooperatives, more roommate pairing services and stricter legislation for affordable-housing vacancy rules were discussed. It was also believed that immigrants and 55-to-65-year-old seniors needed more access to Canada Pension Plan and Old-Age Security.

At the end of the discussion, Dr. Gloria Gutman, from Simon Fraser University’s Gerontology Research Centre, stressed the needs for groups to keep communicating at all levels to help resolve these major seniors’ issues.

Pamella Ottem, MSN, worked for many years in the field of gerontology. As a retired nurse, she has volunteered in the Fraser Health Authority hip replacement program. At Jewish Seniors Alliance, she is a member of the board and chairperson of the peer support services committee.